The new coat arrived, just in time to pick Connie up from the city and head off to a random house party. I said the night was brisk but, having just returned from the frigid wasteland of Minnesota, Connie refused to acknowledge the weather as anything other than “balmy”.

Diction aside, the coat is perfect. It’s darted at the chest and has two huge welt besom pockets on each side. I was a little disappointed at the lack of inside storage space, but the over-sized safety pin closure more than made up for that. Is it a brooch for my lapel? A nifty way of closing up my coat? Or is it both?

The ubiquitous boots served me well when traversing the bottle/can littered floor and past legs and bodies. As the only responsible member of our little crew (read: “the only one with a car and license”), I wound up carting everyone’s slightly sloppy selves back home.

But it was was totally worth getting to see Connie stumble around my apartment the morning after still half-asleep in tights and a flannel shirt.